


Be Happy

by orphan_account



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Church is gonna be an asshole you've been warned, Deacons sarcastic as fuck and it hurts, Gay, I'll add more as I keep going but jesus christ, M/M, discontinued, this is going on from Deacons view
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-09
Updated: 2018-06-09
Packaged: 2019-05-20 07:02:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14889839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Simple enough. Head to find this guy with Happy. Make a new friend. Kick the Institutes Ass. Celebrate. Nice, simple wishlist. Simple until some asshole spilled mutfruit soda on it and now Deacon has to wing everything.(I ended this already, sorry to disappoint)





	Be Happy

Deacon twirls the cap slowly. Fashionably late was still late, one of Des’ favorite things to say whenever Happy didn’t pop up right on time with flamboyant arm waving and a lie so well constructed Deacon was almost jealous. Almost.

 

When he did pop up out of the darkness into Diamond City, he was inconspicuous. Deacon would have lied if he said it was almost like he didn’t notice him. Happy noticed everything, Deacon had taught him to do so. But whatever well spun lie with some truth woven in perfectly to make it seem almost like the complete truth isn’t what Deacon needed. Happy had met the man himself, the big guy, the soldier, the one and only, Church Higg. The Popsicle who’d popped out of the vault Deacon had been staring at for the past two years. You had a beautiful blonde soldier pop out, take one look at his beautiful home, and decide it was hideous. Everyone had read that paper. Real nice, real classy.

 

He swings his leg, watches Happy lean against a pole. Watches him make idle chatter, watches watches watches. All from behind his sunglasses. Happys in the outfit he’d said he would be in. Dirty white shirt, threadbare black jeans, oil smudges on his cheeks. The smudges hadn’t been agreed on, but they were a nice touch. Just a regular mechanic, nothing to see here. Deacon shakes his head and walked up to Happy with a chirpy greeting as he was chatting with a guard about how much he’d pay for a working Pip-Boy.

 

“Hey! There you are!” Happys a godsend, he looks at Deacon and without missing a bit grins back. He knew Deacon had been there, that’s good. He kept his cover well like he hadn’t noticed his friend since he’d been so covered in shadows from the overhang. Casual, like sipping a beer at the bar in perfect Wastelander camo, casual. The best kind of casual. Happy says a goodbye to his new security bud and joins Deacon, hooking an arm through his. Deacon always loved the names Happy could conjure up without a second thought. What cover would there be today? There was never telling. 

 

“I missed you, honey!” Happy speaks with the enthusiasm as if he really had. Sweethearts, nice. A boat fixing hobby would be nice, maybe they’d come down from Norfolk. No, definitely not. Happys accent and acting would give them away in a heartbeat. “I missed you too, especially when you could have been helping me fix that boat instead of charging off to see all the sights without me.” The inflections were perfect. Practice made sure, and Happy sighs as he pouts. Happys acting is on point as he loops an arm around Deacon's waist. False flirting was the guys' specialty.

 

“There’s so much more to see out here! This really is a jewel!” The lies were almost enough to get Deacon to crack up and laugh. Happy hated Diamond City with a burning passion, so as he speaks so highly about pretty and bright everything is, the irony is strong. Thankfully Happys face is mostly shielded by the shadow, meaning even if he does cringe, it’s not that visible. “I heard about a nice place called the Dugout, maybe we can hit there and grab a drink sweetheart?” Deacon loads on the honey voice and pat to Andrews back. He has to remember, he’s talking to Andrew, not Happy. Not Antisocial I’ll-Snap-Off-Your-Fingers, Happy. What a name for someone with such a displeased ugly attitude right? But Happy had found out what cranks their mutual icicle pops gears. 

 

Deacon isn’t ever someone who would judge a man for what cooks their goose, pushes their buttons, makes them get up in the morning. That was a nice one Deacon, stash it away for the books honestly. The books that Happy will probably burn to ash and scream at aggressively once he no longer has to pretend to like being touched. Happy, well more like Andrew, gives Deacon a dazzling smile. Deacons boxers would be soaked from how handsome the man as if he wasn’t actually one of the most annoying people Deacon knew. Which, honestly in Deacon's opinion was a talent. After all, Deacon knew himself and, in everyone else’s opinion obviously not Deacons, Deacon was the most annoying thing in all of the commonwealth. Every morning he woke up and since he was just so handsome and had the title, flashed himself some finger guns in the mirror. He wished that wasn’t true.

 

Oh wait, that’s right. What cooks their frosty friend's figurative goose. Which is… Deacon has no clue. Happy does, he obviously has a million and one clues from the way he works up the act really well. His fingers are stroking Deacons side and his smile is constant and soft as they trapeze towards the Dugout Inn. A quick check of his wristwatch let him know what was going on, a beautiful meeting with their frozen dinner, chicken and peas with pudding and really crappy sucky ice cream. The kind you put in your mouth and instantly question why, why someone would be so cruel as to feed you the disgusting freezer burned vanilla strawberry banana swirl ice cream. Maybe he’s self-projecting though, maybe. Maybe is gone, they stroll through the entrance to the Dugout. It’s too obvious who their target is. 

 

Three months ago, out pops their favorite guy, the missing piece and someone they needed. Needed bad. Not in the way some people need a dick in the ass really, really bad. More in the way a man dying from dehydration needs water. Really, _really_ bad. There was who they need, leaning back. Orange jumpsuit, blonde hair, dazzling blue eyes. That jumpsuit? That was bad. Golly fucking gee was he hot though, despite the obvious giant red, or rather orange, flag waving around. Well, more like orange flag wrapped around his body, around those nice, nice muscles. Happy taps Deacons side for his attention. The man is looking back. Church - have to remember his name, it’s important that he remembers while he talks with this absolute wall of a man, while pretending not to know his name the entire time of course. Happys arm is a guide through the crowd, as if Deacon needs it, but maybe whoever Deacon is playing did. Sure, that’s plausible. Not really but, whatever helps him sleep at night.

 

Happy tugs Deacon onto the couch and quickly gives Church his biggest, wide-eyed innocent smile. “This is Henry!” Happys arm snakes around Deacon's shoulders, and Deacon gives Church a much more smug smile. He was used to the routine. Happy was an innocent twenty-two-year-old, and Deacon would be his older and much less naive boyfriend. Churches eyes were sizing Deacon up, it’s so obvious that Deacon wants to laugh. He holds it together as Church nods and looked between Happy and Deacon. Well, rather their roles. Andrew and Henry, two men with really pretty faces, and it becomes a bit more clear why Happy needed a duo to pull this off. Two dudes versus one sounded like a battle, but it seemed it was more Churches thing, what melted his metaphorical popsicle.

 

Almost a compliment to be chosen for such a job.

 

_ Almost. _


End file.
